Other Echoes
by Secondary
Summary: Something went terribly wrong, and now she's stuck with the angel. And apparently he's still working on a plan. Ruby & Castiel.
1. Chapter 1

…..

Title: Prayers to Broken Stone  
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and/or anything associated with it. Weep.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre/ Pairing: **Castiel & Ruby. Apocafic.  
**Spoilers: **Series. Season 4. Nothing specific yet.  
**Summary: **Ashes ashes we all fall down.

….

i.

Thirty-seven days after the last Seal broke and Hell rose on Earth, Ruby hurtled through the darkness with an angel in front of her and a hellhound on her ass.

The building used to be a convenience store. She had gone in to find something they would use along the lines Demon Off (salt, for starters) and had issued strict, easily understandable instructions, like _stay_, that Castiel had either not fucking comprehended or ignored. Ruby planned on issuing him the most severe ass chewing of his life except that _she_ was going to get the most severe ass chewing of _her_ life, literally, unless he picked up the pace.

That was how her day started. It never really got better.

….

"I said _stay_. Stay. It's easy. There's no participation on your part. Stand there and look pretty." There was no way to save her shoe, she had kicked the hound in the general area of what she thought was its face and got teeth instead. "_Dogs_ understand _stay_."

And Castiel _was_ standing there looking pretty; staring off into the middle distance like Ruby was just making annoying white noise. He frowned at _dogs_ though, and shifted his attention from the reddened sky to her.

"We shouldn't split up."

She twirled a finger in the air. Slouched down on the broken concrete and huffed out a sigh. "I'm feeling the trust, wings."

"It's not about trust." A three step stalk to the dirty scrabble of claw marks that marked where the hellhound had met a sticky end. It was never about trust, because she was a demon and he was an angel and they mixed about as well as heaven and hell should. Which is to say not, but she hadn't turned him over to Lilith and that ought to have counted for something.

She watched him shove his hands in his pockets and tilt his head skyward.

"We should leave. It's not safe here."

She snorted but stood, folding her arms across her stomach, lopsided and curling her toes in the ashy dirt. "It's not safe anywhere. But you just had to smite Fido and put a holy blip on everyone's radar. I hope you're happy."

He shot her an honest to God _glare_, set his jaw and started walking.

Heh. Ruby's How To: Make Enemies and Alienate Your Allies. She'd write a book.

"Hey- wait up!"

….

When it rained, it was in great icy gouts that drove the horizon into a flat line. Water poured through the cracks, swirled in pools across the floor in crazed oil slick patterns.

Not even Castiel would walk in this.

Maybe there was some sense waffling around in that crazed up angel brain that wasn't taken up by Bible verses and big blue eyed _I told you so_'s.

"We need a plan."

"We have a plan. A good plan. We choose life, remember?"

He looks a little sulky, mouth turned down. "That's not a plan." But rain soaked and pulled in on himself, he didn't add much except to slink down closer to the block of concrete. Ruby had the impression of ruffled feathers and didn't bother to hide a brittle smile.

"We can hold hands and sing kumbayah?"

"Perhaps something more long term."

"White picket fence and two point five adorable little kids with their daddy's eyes and their mommy's hair?"

Castiel doesn't move, but he's looking at her out of the corner of his eye warily.

"Relax. _Unclench_. You're not my type. I like my feathers in pillows, thanks."

Rainwater rose in a lapping, filthy wake up to Ruby's feet. She pulls her legs up and folds them under her, awkwardly leaning on Castiel to do so, feeling the sodden material of that damn trench coat against her side.

He's like a rock. But it feels nice to know she's not alone in this, of having something solid beside her, and apparently he's willing to risk demon cooties to have the same.

She could stay here and it wouldn't make any difference because there wasn't anywhere else to go. Wandering around putting the restless dead down had lost its appeal when east coast had dropped into the ocean. But apparently, Castiel had a Mission. And whether or not it was God or just a lost voice shouting echoes, he followed it.

The world hasn't ended for him. He won't believe it.

Not till God wills it.

…


	2. Chapter 2

…  
**Spoilers: **Series. Season 4. Nothing specific yet.

Notes: 3 omg. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I didn't think the whole Cas and Ruby trip would go over well at all.

..

ii.

The smiting of the hellhound doesn't go unnoticed, and once again they're pelting across a cracked city and hiding in burned out buildings. Or rather, Ruby's doing the hiding and Castiel's standing at the broken window watching coal colored smoke prowl the sky.

"Hey, your deathwish is showing."

Castiel makes no attempt to move. Ruby kicks her heels against the service counter she sat on, tries to pretend that the water stains on the sagging ceiling are interesting or that she can't smell the clotted reek of meat gone bad. Something is dead in here, and she doesn't want it to be her.

"I'm taking your shoes when they kill you."

No movement. He might as well be one of those decorative statues, sans fluffy wings and general good will towards demons trying to save their prim ass.

Ruby kicks off the counter and steps through puddles to Castiel, waving a hand in front of his face. "Earth to-"And stops, works her jaw and jams her hand into her jacket pocket.

She didn't think there was anything worth praying for anymore, but Castiel mouths the words with an absolute certainty.

Waiting, Ruby turns her eyes to the sky and watches, wondering if it was going to be today or tomorrow that they found their little lost lamb, the last one. It's one of those mortal shards that Hell hadn't managed to sweep away; a human thing, to want to take care of the things left behind, and there was nothing more left behind than Castiel.

"I don't have a deathwish," Castiel says suddenly, then tilts one of those sideways looks at her. Blue eyes and stubble along his jaw. Ruby frowns at him, scrapes her bare foot across dirty, cracked checkerboard tile.

"So your cunning plan is to hide in plain sight?"

"I'm not hiding." He assures her. "I'm waiting."

"That's…insane angel logic."

She doesn't know who taught Castiel how to smirk (wait, yes she does, and that's a road she doesn't want to travel down) but it's deeply unsettling.

…

Her kind is persistent…and reluctant to give up, not with the smell of angels lingering. A series of back alleys later, Ruby's got her knife clenched in one hand and a decidedly dead guy at her feet. She's almost sorry she had stabbed first and thought about questioning later; any news was good news, and it wasn't like it could get any worse.

When demons were killing each other just for a chance to slip into secondhand bodies, used meat? It was easier to avoid introductions. Hi, I'm Ruby and this is Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Traitor? Me?

"We have to stop this."

She likes the inclusion of 'we' but he's being kind of vague.

"I'm sorry," she huffs, and wedges the body behind some rubble (hiding evidence has never been a strong point for demons, and it's been a learning process.) "Would you have liked to read off a list of his sins first?"

"Envy."

And that…boggles her. So she ignores it because trying to understand angels is like…physics or something. He's back to looking at the sky when she straightens and turns back to him, open longing etched on every angle of his face, in his stance. Distress signal, calling home. Is there anyone out there? _Is there anyone else?_

"What do we have to stop?" she asks quietly, calling him back down.

"This. All of this." He's shaking his head, a bob in his throat as he speaks, she can't see his eyes but she knows they're narrowed into blue slits, like the whole apocalypse was a personal insult. "This is not right."

"There's no getting off the ride once it's been started, wings." She blows a strand of lank hair out of her eyes and hopes he doesn't notice that she had liberated the dead man's shoes.

He almost laughs, and that's when the air goes thick with a static buzz that Ruby can feel in her teeth.

Castiel's goes _ridged_, looks like he's been punched in the gut and actually feels it.

There's a sound like _wings_, and it's getting louder.

"Go." Castiel says in a rasp, watching the sky, his arms held out warily at his sides.

"Not-" 'cause _hell_, she's never seen him scared, and it's…

"_Now_." He doesn't raise his voice- never raises his voice- but it goes deep and terrifying, reaches down and grabs her by the core and that's what gets her going. She turns and runs-anywhere-and he's right behind her, pounding down the uneven pavement like the damn devil was on their heels.

The buzz twists into a bone deep shake, and _oh shit_ she thinks she _knows_-

It happens so fast she can't react. Castiel grabs her tightly by the wrist, she feels a slick dislocation of her shoulder, and then she's bodily hauled through a doorway that may or may not have actually contained a door until Castiel had slammed into it.

He's got her pulled in close, clutched tight to his chest and hisses in her ear, "_Do not move_."

Ruby thinks of statues and stillness and the fact that she can feel the runaway beat of his heart on her back. Vessel's heart. Something.

She counts heartbeats, gets to nine before there's a sense of pressure pushing in on all sides, makes her sink to the floor with her hands clapped to her ears and Castiel's hand is over her mouth to stop her from _screaming_ 'cause that sound like knives on bone in her head and in her heart.

His eyes are open wide and impossible blue and she's twisting in his grip and that's when the sound s_tops_, her ears ring with silence.

Oh _fuck_.

The light is weak and doesn't go far. That doesn't stop the shadow shape of mammoth wings from flaring across the floors and wall.

"Castiel-"

"Be still."

Ruby swallows hard. Castiel she knows; his thunderstorm scent and the way his voice dips with his moods and the way his mouth curls down when he's frustrated and tired and that's the angel she's comfortable with.

The one outside, the one she can't even see, is horrifying. She's cringing in her own skin from the massive presence and her stomach's bottoming out somewhere around her feet. Everything in her is telling her to _run_. It's like being turned inside out of yourself and laid bare, salt on the wounds.

In her ear, Castiel growls one word, a name: "Zachariah."


	3. Chapter 3

…

**Spoilers: **Series. Season 4. Uh, _Zachariah_ in general.

Notes: I like the guy. But I don't have to trust him. I really wanted to do him justice here, but. *hands!* I've rewritten this chapter twice and I'm still not overly fond of it. I suspect I'll never be fond if it.

….

iii.

Before Edgar Allen Disneyland opened its gates to the world at large, there had been rumors. The littlest murmurs of dissent in the ranks of Heaven's armies, demon gossip that angels were switching teams in the middle of the game.

Ruby had heard it, remembered it, and passed it on to Sam ("Something you should know…" "Demons lie." "Not about this.") And then shuffled it aside because hey, Apocalypse Now.

Now it seems really, incredibly important.

The wings shadows thrown across the walls retreat, and just when Ruby thinks it's safe to start breathing again an alarming thought goes tearing through her mind: if Castiel knows that it's Zachariah, then would Zachariah know that it's Castiel…?

The answer is a loud, resounding _yes_ as the sound of clapping echoes into the small spaces around them. For fucks sake, she knows she's a demon, yes yes bad slap her hand, but could _somebody_ give her a break? Really? Like now?

"That's very good Castiel," Zachariah says genially, his tone loud and clear and oh so pleased. Like Castiel has just performed a particularly amusing trick and if the sound of his voice is pissing Ruby off even through the screaming _run away_ terror she can only imagine what it's doing to Castiel. "Very…_persistent_."

When she looks to Castiel she doesn't have to imagine, because for a guy with maybe three facial expressions he's getting all the mileage he can out of them. He's shifting between hurt and rage, like he's willing to set the halo aside for a moment and bring the wrath down.

She mouths _no_, shakes her head vehemently and hopes he understands. Fists her good hand in his coat and pushes down, tries to make him realize that while revenge left you pleasantly tingly, running away left you pleasantly alive.

"But then you always were."

On the other hand, maybe they can share a rack. He can tell her to have faith or some shit and hold her hand while some gibbering minion of Lilith's makes a fucking handpuppet from her kidney.

There's noise from outside, the air pops as something moves violently and then the next few seconds are full of brutal movement. The _wall_ comes down, fuck, the _building_ is falling in on them, and raining brick and weather rot plaster, and when the roof top air conditioning unit comes crashing in is when Castiel shoves her down and goes to a knee- and the sudden absence of things falling on them is dimly noted.

She hears feathers over the sound of assault, the rush of clean air, and Castiel's stooped low under the weight pressing down on him.

Ruby looks up, sees the faint fireshine of something she was never meant to look at and snaps her eyes shut before the burn she feels then becomes worse. The after image of wings is red on the back of her eyelids. She keeps them shut until the shaking stops, until she's certain she's not risking blindness.

"Impressive."

Castiel stands remarkably quick from someone that had just had a building fall on him. Ruby follows a little more slowly, clutching at her shoulder and shoving it back with a snarl in her throat. She wonders briefly what their chances are and decides it's too depressing.

"I would have thought you'd run."

Castiel gives a little scoff at that and holds out a hand wordlessly. Zachariah follows his gesture to the dead city, the ash land where prayers fell on broken stone.

"This. This is what you made. There's nowhere to run." And then, with a trace of his old imperiousness: "What do you want?"

"Just wrapping things up," Zachariah says blithely. "You're the last piece of the puzzle, and I hate leaving things unfinished."

Beside Ruby, Castiel shifts forward. And oh shit, here it comes.

"Any chance your sense of self-preservation will start kicking in…?" She watches his jaw clench and his fingers curl and starts reaching for the knife that's tucked…hell, in the _motherloving rubble_. "Nevermind. You're Winchester by proxy."

She's trying to keep an eye on Zachariah (fat lot of good that is) and look for the knife (also kind of useless) when Castiel takes what seems to be an involuntary step closer.

"You killed Anna," Castiel says, his voice as low as it can get without being inaudible. "You killed-"And he stops brokenly because he can't bring himself to say their names. Ruby thinks the ground is dropping out from under her, and the knife is suddenly not very important at all because this…this was how the world _ended_. French fries, hot showers, _Sam_.

Zachariah smiles almost gently. "Not directly." His expression twists into obscene triumph. "But it made a very convincing argument for our brothers."

Castiel makes a sound like a man being gutted; looks like someone had just taken something bright and vital from him.

Then he's doing something quick and complex with his hands and Zachariah arches back, held tight, and there's an unforgiving tilt to Castiel's mouth that's never been there before, right before he fists his hands and the other angel coils in on himself.

"Get the knife."

His words are edged with a thunderstorm sound; Ruby darts away into the wreck, moving brick with shaking hands.

_Wearesodeadsodeadsodead_. It's a litany running loops in her head and it is so not helping. But it keeps her mind off of the needle-in-her-eardrums noise that's filling the air, the furious snarl Castiel makes when Zachariah shakes free.

And there it is, sheathed in dust and dead demon blood (she hopes that's not a sign.) She scoops it up in time to hear a thud, a punch sound of meat on meat and Castiel slam into the portion of the building still standing, knees buckling like his strings have been cut.

"I've told you," Zachariah shakes a finger at Castiel. "Stop watching long enough to learn how to throw a punch, get a hold on that vessel, get some hands on experience…" Slams Castiel into the wall again. And again. _Again_. "You are subordinate for a reason."

Castiel doesn't make a sound, but jerks with impact, instantly attempting to spring back but Zachariah's _there_ with a steadying hand on Castiel's shoulder, another on his chest then there's something incandescently bright being drawn up around the angel's fingertips and Castiel's coughing whiteblue light.

Ruby gives herself a shake and lunges like a near wounded animal at Zachariah's back, 'cause she'll be damned all over again before she lets this smug middle management fuck beat her. Them. Not when every word that comes out of his mouth sounds like a laugh at their expense.

The knife slots neatly between Zachariah's shoulder blades.

Ruby's next sight is that of the diseased sky, sick and unconnected to the rest of her body. Her ears ring with the sound of a fork hitting glass, she couldn't feel the left side of her face and the taste of blood was thick in her mouth. The only thing tethering her to the body was pain, and she felt as though she could unravel at any moment.

"You're not very clear on how things work, are you?" Zachariah asks pleasantly. He reaches behind himself and works his shoulders as he pulls the knife out and drops it carelessly. She can't see Castiel but she can just hear the hectic, urgent sounds he's making.

"I can't…" She works her jaw around the grind of bone. "Can't kill you."

His shadow falls over her, a foot coming to rest on her ribs. "There you go. Bright as a button, aren't you." He steps down hard and there's a wet crack and a liquid gush that fills Ruby's chest.

"Di…_dick_."

He tosses his head back and laughs at the redredred sky. "Oh, I like this one. Sassy. Doesn't know her place." He bends down, adding confidentially, "Apparently he has a type."

Ruby watches while the world goes slow, a kind of hazy realization that the hand coming to rest on the side of her face was in no way a good thing and that the gasping airless sensation of being drawn out and used up-

-and Zachariah goes stone stiff.


	4. Chapter 4

**Spoilers: **Series. Season 4.

Notes: Eii! Hi. I have this vaguely planned. In a 'we will go this direction because it's pretty' kind of way. *shifty* This is so not beta'd. I don't know. I give up. *shame* Also! Reviewers? You are shiny and pretty. Shiny and pretty and I love you.

…

Ruby breathes herself back in and rolls away from his hand before he gets over whatever the hell is wrong with him. Three, maybe four ribs twist beside her lungs, but it's bearable. Imminent death makes it bearable.

There's not even a chance to settle, to wrap back around the bones of her body, before Castiel's just suddenly there, leaning into her side and that ashy, sticky dust is kicking up into her eyes and mouth.

"_Go-_"he barks out, rough. Ruby stumbles back, thinking _runrunrun_ and _the knife get the knife_ and _can't leave him he's the only one left_. Once upon a time, running would have won out in a borrowed heartbeat, but Castiel's not interested in her newfound allegiance.

He _shoves_ her away, managing to convey with one frenetic expression _get the fuck out of here_. Her entire body pings in one long flare of agony so swift that she can't strangle the hoarse rasp. It's surprising that anything hurts anymore. But it's not like Hell makes you immune to pain.

"…" Ruby's aware enough to know that putting your back to the bad guy is a death worthy sin…except that a white hot heat is ebbing around her ankles. "Castiel…"

Back and forth, like a tide or a heartbeat.

Zachariah, slipping to his knees with his head lowering and hand clenching at the dirt. He's _laughing_. Clogged. Wracking. Strings of blood and spit threading from his chin, and there's her knife, the familiar old bone colored hilt spiking up from his back.

There's a kind of dread coiling heavy in Ruby's gut, a punched sensation that's pulling her down. _Angels_. It should have worked. It should have- Her legs just give out at that, she folds to the ground and drags her fingers through the grit and hothothot light washes out around her, burning up the edges of her arms and knees and thighs and it feels a lot like falling forward with her thoughts scattering up like birds in all directions.

She's already died once. It should be easy a second time. Old hat. She's watching Zachariah twisting rabidly to pull out the knife again, watching without realizing anything but the helpless drifting numbness. He's going to smile when he brings the blade across her throat. He's going to laugh again and go after Castiel.

He's going to.

The light is killing her.

Black spots dance in her vision when a rough hand slaps across her eyes, an arm catches her around the stomach and there's not a hint of warning when Castiel grabs her and _goes._

It's like being throw into water, a slight resistance, then just remembered starbright fire still warm on her skin. Castiel lets her go almost as soon as they arrive at wherever it was. Keeps walking and makes it maybe two steps until he just drops suddenly to his knees and drags in a gasp of air that sounds so sharp it hurts Ruby just to hear it.

She lays there in the cool dirt, tears drying unnoticed on her cheeks and just breathes. Takes it all in. They're alive. It's a good start.

It's the only start.

"Uhm," Feels like she's swallowing her tongue. Castiel jerks at the sound, but he won't look at her. It's dark, wherever they are now. The steady _drip drip drip_ of water and mildew scent of underground places. Subway tunnel. Sewer. Somewhere. Some city. Didn't matter.

"We must go."

"What happened?" 'cause really? She doesn't want to move, let alone start that cryptic 'I will tell you what you need to know at the last possible minute' head game crap. So no. And then something throws itself in front of her train of thought there and Ruby kicks upright. "The _knife-!_"

Panic goes thrumming through her when she sees the set of his shoulders, the way he won't look at her, the slow careful words that come to her through the gloom. "I am…not certain." Maybe he can hear her screaming incoherently in her head because he slouches down further and just sort of slumps against the curve of a mossy wall.

Ruby can't say anything because it wouldn't possibly be loud enough to satisfy her. She wants to break things. Hit something. _Stab it_. So she inhales _deeply_, holds it even though she doesn't really need to but it makes her feel better, a bit more human and that was something to hold onto. "Okay."

Castiel turned to look at her then, like he's trying to gauge the hundred things _okay_ could mean. _Okay, I hate you. Okay, that's fine. Okay, hold still while I tie your intestines into decorative bows. _He's got that Look. The narrowed searching one with the furrowed brow. There's blood drying along his jaw and temple, and if she wants he's close enough to reach out and touch.

"So okay." Ruby says, remembering that raw and wrecked sound he had made after Zachariah had just dismissed the Winchesters like gutter trash. Her chest feels tight. Says again softly, "Okay."

They should be going. Be anywhere but there 'cause fuck knew when Zachariah or someone bigger and less incline to chat would home in on Castiel. They shouldn't be sitting in a sewer in Nowhere, USA when he has blood in his hair and eyes and she's the color of bruise.

They shouldn't.

"I wasn't fast enough." Castiel says very, very quietly. "I'm not strong enough."

"Well," Ruby replies and hugs her knees to her chest. "Then we're both screwed."

…

_Three days after the last Seal broke and Hell rose on Earth, Ruby salted and burned Sam and Dean Winchester. _

_The salt scoured the skin on her hands raw and red until it felt like the muscle was trying to pull away from the bone but she kept going until it was gone because she wanted them to rest and be still. _

_(the one on the left was dean and there was blood stained through the dropcloth she had covered him in)_

_She didn't pray. She didn't say she was sorry. She didn't think anyone would hear it, anyway. _

_(the one on the right was sam and-)_

…

The landscape is dusty and dead. It smells like grave dirt and smoke. Ruby's bored with it, been there and seen it. It's all one foot in front of the other, relentlessly moving forward.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Castiel didn't have to say anything to make you feel rock stupid. It was a talent he had.

"Wanna play I Spy?"

They're walking down the middle line of an asphalt road that's gone soft with the heat. Castiel's staring determinedly at the horizon line like he's pinning it in place and Ruby's had a song stuck in her head since that morning. Or…evening. Whatever. They didn't exactly need to sleep and it wasn't like the sky ever changed color. (Castiel said it did, and then launched into a complex explanation involving vibrating electromagnetic fields and visible light and sounded not happy but…_pleased_ as he spoke and that just cemented her theory that Castiel was a massive _geek.) _

Which means she's off in her own hazy world where instead of throwing punches, Castiel just stuns things with intellect and Sam's just off getting pie for Dean and the lyrics _t__hen the door was open and the wind appeared the candles blew then disappeared the curtains flew then he appeared...saying don't be afraid_ are running loops in her head when Castiel says _demons._

"What?" Ruby asks, intelligently, thinking for a very confused moment that it's just a really twisted angel version of I Spy. She blinks, looks at him looking at the dark twisting clouds.

Oh.

Oh shit. Oh _fuck_.

"Oh." She adds again. The pervasive stink of sulfur hits a second later.

They're going to smell him, catch that scent of purity and lightning and come running like the dinner bell's just been rung just so they can lick the blood off his bones or peel him open and see the light inside gutter out- or worse, far far worse- they'll bind and break him and take him away as a gift to Lilith or fucking Lucifer.

There's nowhere to run, not right out in the open, and they can't risk the angel mojo again. Not again, not when her kind is so close she can taste them like bile in her mouth.

Remembers _and the one on the right was Sam_ and a burst of frantic knowing hits her. Ruby's never been one to shy away from what needs to be done. The knife's gone but she digs quickly in her pockets and uh…_nail clippers._ Jesus H. Christ.

She cuts an uneven line across her palm, squeezes until it wells up with blood, and that's what she smears on the shoulder of Castiel's coat.

The punched look he gives her is priceless. She'll have it to comfort her while her on the rack while her insides are being alphabetized.

She wipes her freely bleeding palm down his front, squeezes her hand fiercely to draw out more and thinks crazily that she should have opened up her wrist instead, that they're going to grab the last real angel in the world just because she couldn't _bleed_ fast enough…

'Please,' she thinks, not knowing what she was praying to or even if she should be, because it's never worked anyway. 'Just go away.'

Ruby looks over her shoulder at the darkening sky and clutches the dirty fabric of Castiel's coat until gentle pressure folds around her wrist. Shadows fall over her shoulders while a hungry, throaty noise brings with it the sky horde, a vast bodiless roil of smoke. But Castiel has her wrist and he's not letting go, so when she finally dares to look an angel square in the eyes it's nothing more than weary blue, inhumanly curious and searching. And wonder of wonder, she's not rolling around blind.

"Hold that urge to smite," she tells him, "Unless they can smell accountants. Then y'know, go for it."

He nods, slowly, frowning at the bitter tang of demon blood on his coat, at the sky, which goes dark with a muted roar.

Maybe they smelled him before, untouched angelmeat and a lone demonic presence. Maybe she's got the Winchester curse so bad that she's willing to cover for an angel just so she's not alone.

The smoke above boils in place, _searching_. Castiel stands, quietly, either because he thinks it's God's will or for once he's going to trust her and not get them horribly killed. He hasn't let go of her arm.

She thinks he's going to open his pious mouth and ruin it, ruin _them_, but Castiel tilts his head and stares unflinchingly up at the cancerous sky until the wandering demonsmoke arrows away.

"Whoa," she says appreciatively. "Spook glare, warp ten."

Castiel does not look impressed. In fact, she's seen the expression he's using before, picture perfect, on Dean Winchester.

"Thank you," he says, closes his eyes and lets her go. Ruby swallows, pulls her palm to her chest and wraps her other hand around the place he had touched and feels something twist in her heart, borrowed that it may be, that she doesn't care for at all.

"Let's get the hell outta here."

…


	5. Chapter 5

Spoilers: Series. Season 4.  
Notes: For this chapter I wanted banter. It's like they pointed at me and laughed. Psh! Thank you so much for reviewing! I love knowing what everyone thinks. Especially since I wanted to take this chapter in an entirely different direction.

…

v.

Forty days after the last Seal broke Ruby asks, "Do you miss them?" She's not really expecting an answer, doesn't even really want one 'cause what if his reply was _no_, but they've been holed up in what used to be a Dairy Queen for the last five hours and there's only so many times you can check the store room for fries.

"Yes."

It's ambiguous, but she'll take it. Ruby rolls over to her side and levels a look over at Castiel, who is currently flat on his back and staring up through a hole in the ceiling. Maybe there's such a thing as heavenly wi-fi, and he's phoning home. His fingers are laced together over his stomach, casual and lax, his profile tilted slightly. She watches his adam's apple bob as he swallows, follows the line of his throat up and waits patiently.

Outside, something dark and smoky whips through empty streets, but it doesn't approach the building. They can't put up wards or salt, because there's not supposed to be anything left but the wandering dead and demons. If it comes to a fight, it's all Ruby. Castiel's been downgraded to moral support since angel-mojo is out of the question, and he kind of fails hard at that.

"Why do you ask?"

When Castiel asks a question, she's learned he's usually demanding an explanation along with it. The apocalypse has made him edgy.

"Because," She's up and pacing by then, glaring out broken windows and kicking aside weather blackened clumps of napkins. There's a dead man in back, behind the freezer door; he's weather blackened too, skin spilt and running. He might have been hiding and hoping. She didn't tell Castiel.

He's still lying there when she prowls back.

"Do you?" His voice is hoarse and rough from disuse; _he's_ a little rough from disuse. It hits her solidly in the middle, the ragged sound of his words, the horrible searching question. _Tell me you miss them too, so I know I'm not the only one that remembers what was lost. _

She bites her lower lip, poised to run. "I miss the way things used to be."

He huffs something that might have been a laugh. Or a scoff. Either way, she doesn't think he believes her.

Ruby lets it go, because she doesn't know if she's angry at him or at herself. It's a dark and depressing road to go down, anyway. "Whatever. Forget it." And she wants to forget it, let it drop. She bites her bottom lip and stares fixedly out an empty window and listens to the empty quiet out on empty streets. Gone and empty. Everything was, just because Lucifer had to break all of Daddy's toys. Like a kid kicking over sandcastles.

She does desperately want to drop it. But Castiel...he's complicated. And he confuses her, alternating between some species of concern and dismissal. He won't talk to her, she doesn't even know what he was doing when the Seals broke and his precious Dean shuffled on out of his mortal coil.

"Isn't forty supposed to be the magic number?" The light outside is flat and odd, turns everything grey. "Do we get an olive branch? Fuck, how 'bout a redo?"

Castiel 'hn's' but doesn't respond. Ruby's torn between being glad (because she doesn't want to hear 'God has a plan' in any form) and being pissed. And he's still not speaking, not moving.

"Talk to me." Her hands clench into fists, knuckles gone white. "Say something."

"What do you want me to say?"

Ruby wheels on him. "That you know what the _fuck is going on! _That you-we!-have a _plan!_" That we're not wandering in circles. That you're not just waiting until God tells you to drop dead. How's the fucking weather? "Just…"

It was that feeling all over again, a throwback from centuries ago when she had been mortal and desperate. An echo of loss, and she didn't know what to do. But Castiel's moving; slowly standing like it's taking every bit of his concentration to do so. Like whatever Zachariah had done was deep and internal and hurting.

She wants to hit him anyway. Hit something just to _do_ something other than duck and run and hide.

"What are we waiting for?" she asks urgently. Feels like something breaking apart in her chest, like loss, because Castiel's just looking at her solemnly, and then tilts his gaze upward.

And that feeling in her chest freezes. It's too much when she remembers his hand warm on her wrist and forty days of walking and fighting beside him, fighting with him. Of saving and being saved. She could stay, chain herself to Castiel and burn out with him or-

"No." Ruby tells him, shaking her head and backing away. Glass crunches underfoot, catches in the bare sole but that's hardly a distraction. "No fucking way."

He just looks so earnest, believable, as if he's not totally _insane_. "Ruby."

"I'm sick of waiting for your God to save us."

Castiel closes his eyes. "This is _faith_."

She spits out, "This is _stupidity_." Runs her hands through her hair in a gesture of pure frustration thought she's itching to smack the faith right out of him.

"It's often confused." Castiel concedes.

Ruby sits down hard in the crooked doorway and rests her forehead on her knees. Thinks of the dried blood on his coat and wide blue eyes and feels everything that ties her to him tighten a little more. This was not faith. She was afraid to put a name to it.

He's so very quiet that she doesn't hear anything until he slides down gingerly by the doorway, not quite touching. "I…can tell you what I know."

"Shoot." She's kind of surprised at the willingness to listen to Castiel and his special brand of crazy, but she doesn't have anything else to do.

When Castiel speaks, his voice is low and deliberate so she understands what he's saying in the dark ruins of the world. The words fall like stones, like tears he never learned how to shed.

How Michael's death burned the ground to glass a hundred miles in all directions.

How Lepha had bared her vessel's teeth and raised a slim hand to beckon her fallen kin closer.

How Eiael had begged forgiveness and unfolded into terrible glory, burning out like a star.

How hellhounds had pulled Pahaliah apart and how his grace had poured out from between their teeth and burned them down as they all scattered into ash.

How this one tried to run and hide and that one tried to beg.

How that one fell and that one didn't and how Raphael took a knee before Lucifer

_(hail brother totum tibi subdo me)_

and how Anael held the line until there was nothing left to hold onto but faith.

Castiel goes on and on, sometimes falling into a language that wraps around her insides like a fist and clenches. _fathersaveushelpusourbrothersoursisters. _

When he done and silent, Ruby reaches out uncertainly and touches his knee…for apology or sympathy (from a demon of all things) but he gives another huff of a laugh, the littlest laugh of them all, and this time it's real enough.


	6. Chapter 6

notes: D: horror show. I have a plan. This one's rather short, but I haven't updated in a while and I didn't want people to think I've abandoned it. ;-;

…

vi.

On the forty-third day and still waiting for a sign, Castiel says _something is wrong _in a very small voice, like he's afraid of being overheard. 

"You've said that before." It's all the same, anyway. Ruby's thinks it might be limbo, purgatory, or if she's really unlucky some brimstone version of _Groundhog Day in Hell_. "You're wasting your daily word quota."

Ashy dirt holds her footprints perfectly, leaving a long trail of nothing behind her. She curls her toes in it and thinks she'd give her other shoe for a shower. Or some gum, because the inside of her mouth feels like she'd been chewing lint. Overwhelming horror has been put on hold, it seems. They might be two steps from dead, but she'd kill for a mint.

"It's different." Castiel answers, clear as mud, picking up the conversation thread sometime later. Ruby squints at him- _are you serious?_ - and decides that yes, he is and that's all he's going to say.

"If you don't start talking to me," Ruby says evenly, "I'm going to start making things up."

"You will anyway." Castiel's staring hard at the pitted asphalt that's become their yellow brick road. Highway through Hell. The light's gone flat and hazy, filtered through ever present smoke and dust. There's wide open nothing around them.

The corners of her mouth quirk up, and she can almost forget that he's going to drag her down with him. Blaze of glory and all. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

She watches that go through the penny drop and the frown start to deepen, eyes narrowed down into slits.

"I am not having sex with you." He informs her, all solemn and relentless intensity, and it's such a surprise that Ruby barks out a laugh so dry she feels blood bloom in her throat.

..

All in all, she's not shocked when it starts raining in great, drowning torrents. The water is yellowish, sulfurous almost and leaves a soapy residue on everything. It's making her want to crawl out of her (not her) skin just to get away. "It's official," Ruby tells Castiel. "God hates me."

"Probably." Castiel says in all certainty, not making any attempt to care. He's hunkered down in his coat as far as he can go; he looks small and soaked down to the bone, like a cat that's been suddenly dunked into a pool.

Breathing's hard, suffocating, and it's a good thing she's already dead (technically) but she doesn't know about the poor sucker that Castiel's riding, or even if he _has_ to breathe. Unspoken, they put their heads down and trudge while the water rises and Ruby thinks about floods and how they're Ark-less. She doesn't even have two shoes, let alone two of everything else.

The water's up to their ankles when she risks a sideways look at him, bowed under the weight of water and rain dripping down his jaw and thinks _what in Hell am I doing_ and _I'm doing something wrong it's not right at all_ because nothing has felt _right_ since day one. Like they've been knocked off course and only Castiel can see the signs.

Maybe that's what he means when he says that something's wrong. Maybe he feels it, agent of fate and all, that somewhere along the line somebody zigged when they should have zagged and it fucked the whole system.

"What do you think-"she begins when something black and coiled slams into her back, drives her down into the ground and greasy water floods her mouth.

For a second she's floating in shock, and when she pushes back is when the fog clears and she's jarred across the rough rock, mud in her eyes and nose and something screaming in her ear. It's a minute before she realizes that it's _her_ screaming. It feels like razors and glass, punching brutally into her back and along her ribs, claws or knives. She couldn't even scream, not with the side of her face scraping ground and herself leaking from the tears in the body.

And then it's gone, and Ruby scrabbles awkwardly forward on her hands and knees until she can find her feet and stagger up and by then Castiel's got both hands on it, and it's twisting around in its own skin. There's _teeth_ fucking everywhere on it, surfacing along smoky flesh and gnashing soundlessly.

"_Ruby_." Unspoken: _help me._

_(and the one on the left was dean and there was blood stained through the dropcloth she covered him in)_

"_RUBY_." Castiel was graceless in this fight, he's just trying to hold on, and it takes Ruby a fuzzy minute to realize that it's trying to get _away_ from him. And Castiel is just as desperate to keep it from doing so. It's shredding his hands, palms cut deep and there's blood mixing with the rain and it's just _howling_.

"Shut it up!" She screams it, her jaw feels unhinged and panic chases the pain. "Just shut it the fuck up!" It can't get away, _can't_. She wants the knife. Even more so when Castiel clenches his hands in the soft, ink shine flesh and something bright begins to burn through the rain.

It (_no no no_) makes another lunge towards Ruby, bristling teeth jutting from all the curves of its face, then twists halfway and throws its weight at Castiel. They both went down, a hellhound on top of an angel and Ruby remembers with vivid clarity the part of Castiel's story- how hellhounds pulled one of his brothers apart and burned them all down- when the air snaps with a sudden pressure and all but shoves her down and there's nothing but a hot hot heat and hard, incandescent light.

(_burned them down as they all scattered into ash_)

Ruby feels like she's burning all over again, whites out and-

_Castiel I'm so sorr_

-wakes up, gasping, in a white and gold room.


End file.
